


Britain’s Ilvermorny

by WillowPatronus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Lots Of Death, Angst, Asexual Character, Gen, Hogwarts, How Do I Tag, I won’t be promising anyone’s lives, Ilvermorny, LGBTQ Themes, Lots of Angst, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Not a lot of romance because I don’t understand it, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War, don’t get too attached to anyone, first wizarding war, or sanity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowPatronus/pseuds/WillowPatronus
Summary: When Lynn Rhodes moves from America to Britain for her final year of magical education, everything seems to be falling apart. Struggles with her family increase concern among her new classmates, some of which graciously accept her as one of their own.With the First Wizarding War going on, tensions are high. Will Lynn stay in Britain to fight when she graduates, or will she return to America, where she has her whole life set up for her?
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 4





	1. Heartbreaking Arguments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story’s gonna have loads of angst, because apparently I’m incapable of writing a story that doesn’t involve large amounts of it.  
> There will be lots of death, as it’s a war and people are gonna die.  
> Oh, and please don’t get too attached to any of the main characters or their families. There’s a VERY good chance (110%) that at least one of them will die.  
>   
> Enjoy!

"Why do I even have to _go_ to Hogwarts? Do you even have a legitimate reason or do you just want to get back at me?" I wail, annoyance seeping from my tone as I look at my mother. I rake my pale fingers through my long, soft blonde hair as my hazel eyes meet my mother's blue ones.

"You have to go because that's just what's happening. Now, _please_ , pack up your things. We're leaving at 10 whether you're packed or not. And if you're not ready, then you'll just have to explain to your new headmaster why you don't have any of your materials," my mom snaps, scrunching her nose at my very untidy room. "Just because you have a room to yourself now doesn't mean that you get to leave it looking like a pigsty."

I throw my arms in the air as I look around my room which, even though it doesn't look neat, _definitely doesn't_ look like a pigsty. "Well maybe you should open your eyes for once or use that brain of yours! It doesn't look that bad! And I've still got a couple of hours until we need to leave to catch that stupid train!"

"Excuse me!" my dad thunders from the doorway, his deep voice reverberating through my room. "You will _not_ speak to your mother like that."

"Oh yeah? And why not?" I sneer, my hand twitching to reach for my wand.

"Because we are your parents. You need to show us some respect. Until you're eighteen, you're stuck with us. Then, after that, you can do whatever you want. But until then, you need to do as we tell you," my mom fumes.

"Oho, but _that's_ where you two are mistaken. You see, in the Wizarding world, you become an adult when you reach the age of _seventeen_ , not _eighteen_. And I, unlike you two and my siblings, am a witch, whereas you all are No-Majs. So, technically, I _am_ an adult. I've been seventeen for almost half a month now, in case you'd forgotten. I'm an _adult_."

"Not in our house, you aren't," my dad says, his face turning red. "Not until you're eighteen will we treat you like an adult, and not until then will you be one."

"And even if in your _community_ you become an adult at seventeen," my mother says, glaring at me, "you sure haven't ever acted mature like one." She raises her eyebrows at me, daring me to argue more.

I hate rising to her bait, but I just _can't_ let this one go. I've been fighting the same battle against my parents all summer — and we're both positive we're right on this one and don't want to give up our cases. "Maybe if _you two_ acted more like adults, I would actually have someone to base my maturity off of! And maybe if you, I don't know, _accepted_ that I am who I am we wouldn't be having this argument."

"There's nothing _for_ us to accept! You're clearly just confused!" my mom shouts, drawing herself up to her full height. "When this _phase_ of yours is over—"

"This _phase_?!" I shout shrilly. "Jesus _Christ_ , this isn't a phase, Mom! It's who I _am_! I don't know why you can't understand that!"

"You know what?" my dad booms, forcing my mom out of the room before turning to face me, his face redder than I'd ever seen it before. He leans in close to me, his nose mere inches from my own, and as he speaks, spit flies from his mouth onto my face. "I can't _wait_ until you leave for that school of yours. You want to know why? Because then your mother and I won't have to put up with your _shit_ anymore! You think you're so special because you've got all of these magical abilities, but you're not! You're just so _fucking annoying_! I'm _sick_ and _tired_ of your bitchy attitudes and snide remarks — don't even bother coming home for Christmas break! I don't want to see your face in this house ever again after you leave today!" And with that final demand, he's gone.

"You act like I care!" I yell after him, screaming my throat raw. "I don't want to be part of this stupid fucking family anyway!" I whip my wand out of my jeans and jab it towards the door, forcing it to slam closed, shaking the entire house.

On trembling legs, I slowly find my way to my small bed in the corner of the room, all the sheets stripped from it and laying haphazardly on the floor, leaving only a mattress on the frame. Clutching at my chest, I sink into it, staring blankly at the floor and choking on tears. " _I do care_ ," I mutter, feeling hot tears stream down my nose onto my lap. My body starts shaking violently as I sob harder and harder, doing everything in my power to muffle the sounds. I knew that my parents and I had always been a little shaky, and our relationship definitely got significantly worse over this past summer, but I never imagined it'd lead to _this_. I clearly remember my mother telling me time after time, _"We will always love you, Lynn. No matter how angry we seem at times, we will always love you."_ But ever since I came out to my parents, our conversations had always been clipped, always uncomfortable. As if they had stopped loving me.

Ever since I'd been capable of thinking stuff through, I've always known I was the least liked out of me and my siblings. My older brother, Robert, would always get into loads of trouble and wasn't the best at school, but everyone likes him. He's likable. And my younger sister, Elisabeth, is a carefree smart person. She doesn't need to put in the effort to be good at something. She also is likable.

But I've always been the outsider. Always closed off, always reading, always different. I've never gotten along with other people like my siblings have, and I've put so much time and effort into my studies that I haven't ever had much time for "fun things" like watching TV or playing video games. Not that I mind. Books are significantly more fascinating than electronics, and I don't need to charge my books or keep them plugged into a wall to be able to read them. I've never had any problems with this, but my parents have. They've always wanted for me to be more _normal_. To like things _normal_ people like.

And then, when I got accepted into Ilvermorny a couple years ago, I was happy. I was _ecstatic_. When I was sorted into Horned Serpent House, I was even happier. I finally found people who were like me. People who would much rather work than goof off and watch their grades plummet with a grin. People who _wanted_ to learn. People who _cared_ about their education. For the first time in my life, I had found home.

Summers and vacations at my house got slightly better, too. My parents, having missed me more than they'd let on, scolded me less for working all the time and lightened up a bit, keeping their yelling to a minimum. I was able to catch up with No-Maj friends who I rarely ever got to see anymore. Things had finally started looking up for me.

But at the start of this summer, I made the mistake of coming out to my parents. They'd never been anti-LGBTQ+ necessarily, so I thought they'd be okay if I told them the truth.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

They first accused me of joking, then moved to denial, and then to rage. A couple of days after I came out, they told me we were going to be moving to Britain. No amount of begging would convince them to let me stay in America or even to continue my studies at Ilvermorny.

They told me that they had been talking with Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and that they had all agreed that I would be attending Hogwarts for my final year of education instead of Ilvermorny like I had been the past six years.

I'd had hope up until today that my parents and I could repair what was broken and at the very least get back to where we were before summer. Mild scolding for studying too much or for being too antisocial was far better than staying trapped in the hell hole I'd found my way into.

But that hell hole was better than this.

 _Anything_ is better than this.

I don't know how much time passes until I'm able to calm down enough to pack up all of my things. I'm sitting up, sniffling, on my bed, trying to get all of my belongings to fit into my trunk. I had decided that if I needed or felt a deep desire to keep something, I would put it in my trunk. If I could live without it, then it would get left somewhere on the floor of my room, probably shattered or ripped or in ruins, just to get back at my parents. Also so that I don't have anything whole to tempt me to come back here after today. A malevolent grin shows up on my face when I picture their faces when they'll come into my room — or, _the_ room really, as this won't be my house anymore in a couple of hours — when I'm done and see the mess on the floor. There are torn sheets and blankets, books that have been ripped apart page-by-page, still-smoking pencils I had burned earlier.

As I'm looking through the last box of my things, I find, hidden underneath an old stuffed animal, a picture of my best friend from Ilvermorny, Madeleine, and me, hugging and having a great time. I bite my lip as tears start to fall again, big, fat droplets of water splashing on the frame. My fingers start to turn white as I grip the frame harder and harder. Frustrated, I chuck the picture at my open trunk, shattering the glass protecting the picture.

I reach back into the box and pull out the stuffed animal, a teddy bear my mom had in her youth and gave to me when I was little, which for years was my most favourite thing on the face of the Earth. I grip the bear in my left hand and force the tip of my wand deep into the bear's stomach with my right. With a flash of light, the bear explodes, shooting fluff into the air, covering the room like snow.

"Fuck you, Britain."


	2. Unfamiliar Territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King's Cross station, the day she leaves for Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have introductions for the Marauders, and a crap ton of confusion about the British magical community.

The car ride to King’s Cross Station was quiet and uncomfortable. My dad was off at work, my sister was at school, and my brother was off at some college back in America, leaving my mother to bring me to the station. And when I say “bring me to the station,” I mean “chuck me out the car door the moment we get there”. I do everything I can to avoid the thought that this is most likely the last time I’m ever going to see her again. My dad isn’t one to make empty threats.

So there I am, standing outside King’s Cross, with my overly heavy trunk and annoyed owl shut up in her cage, my mom now out of sight. To make matters worse, I’m dressed in witch’s robes (my school uniform), which don’t look _anything_ like the clothing all these No-Majs are wearing.

I adjust my grip on my trunk and find my way inside the station, frowning as I snake my way through platforms and crowds of people. When I get to platforms nine and ten, I expect to see some special sign pointing towards nine-and-three-quarters, but there aren’t any. I quietly curse the British magical community under my breath for making everything so complicated. I set down my luggage and whip the train ticket out of my pocket, cursing again when it still reads “Platform nine-and-three-quarters.”

I stand there on the platform, completely lost, for several minutes, half-hoping that the right platform’s just going to appear out of thin air. When it doesn’t, I’m more disappointed than I should be. “Where the actual _fuck_ is platform nine and three-quarters?”

“Do my ears deceive me?” a boy around my age says as he walks up to me, raking his fingers through his messy, jet-black hair and smiling widely.

Another boy around my age (who might be the first boy’s brother) walks up to me as well and stands right next to him. “Can’t find the platform, Miss?” he says, smiling an identical grin to that of the boy next to him.

I stand there, squinting at them, wondering if they’re the sort of idiots who would pretend they knew where you wanted to go only to lead you into a secluded area and mug you.

“Trying to find the Hogwarts Express?” the first boy asks me, pushing his rectangular wire-framed glasses up on his nose with his knuckles.

When I don’t answer, the second boy steps in again. “It’s all right if you are. We’re Hogwarts students, too. Gryffindor seventh-years.”

I exhale with relief. “So you can help me find it? The platform, I mean.”

“If you’d like help,” the first boy says, still grinning.

“Thanks. Sorry, I’m just not very comfortable talking with strangers. For all I knew you wanted to mug me. It must seem kind of stupid though to be helping an older student find the platform,” I chuckle anxiously.

“What year are you in?” the first boy asks me.

“Seventh.”

“Seventh? Really? I’ve never seen you around before,” the second boy says suspiciously, peering at me out of the corners of his eyes.

“That would make sense.” At their looks of confusion, I continue, “I went to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry up until now. You know, the Wizarding School in the US. Then we — I mean, then _I_ moved here and can’t go to Ilvermorny anymore.”

“Oh!” the first boy says, comprehension dawning on his face. “Well you’ll love it at Hogwarts. It _is_ after all the _best_ Wizarding school in the world.”

“Ha!” I laugh. “No _way_ is _Hogwash_ better than Ilvermorny.”

“Hogwash?! Tsk tsk. Just you wait and see, wait and see.”

“Hey, where are your parents?” the second boy asks, his look a mix of confusion and fright.

“Um…” I look behind me as if I’m expecting to see them standing right there. I slowly turn back around and face the boys. “They… they couldn’t come.” I say lamely, feeling my face turn red.

The second boy frowns. He looks over to the other boy and tugs on his sleeve. “James…”

“It’s fine, Sirius,” James says lightly, pushing his glasses up with his knuckles again. “Come on, we’ll show you to the barrier,” and he starts to walk away towards an older couple (his parents?) and waves at me to come along. “I’m James, by the way. James Potter.” He gives the other boy a nudge with his elbow.

“Sirius Black,” he says, extending a hand.

“Lynn Rhodes,” I say, shaking his hand with a small smile. I guess they aren’t siblings. Still doesn’t change the fact that they’re ridiculously similar, though.

“This way,” James’ mother says, walking into the crowd at platforms nine and ten. My heart pounds uncomfortably in my chest as I remember being with my family when I was younger, back to the summers between my years at Ilvermorny, when we were whole and happy.

After a little walking, we stop a couple feet away from a solid brick support in the middle of the platform.

“James? Sirius? Why don’t you two show Ms Rhodes how to get through to the platform,” James’ father says.

“All right,” James says, clasping his hands together and staring intently at the wall. “So what you’re going to want to do is run straight at the wall. _Straight at it_. Don’t freak out and don’t think you’re not going to make it through. If you worry, you’re going to crash. If you _believe_ you can get through, then you will. And don’t lose speed, either. That’s a sure way to crash. And also—”

“Oh, shut up, James!” Sirius says, letting out a bark-like laugh. He turns to me and lowers his voice. “He’s making it more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Liar!” James shouts, grinning and laughing along.

Sirius shakes his head good-naturedly. “Look, all you’ve really got to do is run at it. It really isn’t as hard as James makes it sound.”

I try to smile back. “Okay,” I respond, my voice wavering.

“Watch and learn,” James says, grabbing his luggage from his parents. He lines himself up in front of the brick wall, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet before taking off. I wince when he gets there, expecting him to collide, but instead he just runs _through_ the wall.

“Qué pasó?!” I exclaim, my luggage falling to the floor as I raise my hands to my head.

“What?” Sirius says, looking at me confusedly.

I feel my face redden again. “Oh, sorry. Nothing.” I resist the temptation to hit myself. _You aren’t with your friends from Ilvermorny anymore. These people probably don’t even speak Spanish. Just imagine you’re back at home. You’re not allowed to speak Spanish there._ My face pales when I think of being back at my old house. “Just forget about it,” I mumble to myself.

“Remember, just run straight at it and you’re good.”

I jump a little and turn to face Sirius, looking at me expectantly.

“What? Oh, right. Yeah.” I pick up my luggage and stand where James stood moments before, gazing worriedly at the brick wall, wondering how I can possibly get through it. I mean, it’s not that I doubt the power of magic, I just hate how I never can trust it.

So I start running. It’s the most frightening thing I’ve done in a while, and yet I keep trying to convince myself _I’m not going to crash_. I close my eyes and brace for impact when I get right up to the wall, but keep running. Instead of crashing, I feel the tension leave my system and I open my eyes.

Instead of the No-Maj platform I’d just been at, I’m now on a busy platform full of witches and wizards of all ages, owls flying overhead, and a large scarlet train with the words _Hogwarts Express_ on its front waiting to leave.

Right behind me, Sirius comes running through the wall, now holding his luggage. He gives me a quick smile before turning around and contemplating the platform. “I swear, if he’s gone off to go try and find Evans…” he mumbles, peering over the many heads of the crowd. “You’re welcome to sit in our compartment, if you’d like. On the train,” Sirius offers, smiling at me cautiously.

I smile brightly. “That’d be great! You know, if you’re all fine with it.” I’d much prefer to sit with people on the train who I know at least a little than get stuck in a compartment full of people I don’t know.

“Brilliant!” Sirius smiles, still checking the platform. “Well, we should probably get onto the train. We could see if Moony and Wormtail are already in our compartment,” he says as he starts to walk towards the train.

I hurry up to follow along and furrow my eyebrows. “I’m sorry, who?”

Sirius laughs the same bark-like laugh from before. “Two of my other friends. We’ve all got nicknames for each other, see. Remus is Moony, Peter is Wormtail, I’m Padfoot, and James is Prongs.”

I chuckle. “How’d you come up with those?”

He shrugs. “Patronuses.”

“Ah.”

“What’s your Patronus?”

I think for a second. “I think it’s an otter.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You _think_?”

I frown. “I’ve only done it once and when I did, it was a really bright day and I couldn’t get a good look at it before I lost focus and it disappeared.”

“That’s too bad,” Sirius says, climbing onto the train. I follow right after him. “Mine’s a dog. A great big one, too. Professor thought it was a bear when he first saw it,” he laughs. “Here’s the compartment!” he exclaims, throwing the door open and bringing someone in the compartment into a tight hug. “Great to see you, Moony.”

“Merlin, Padfoot! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” the boy exclaims as he jumps a foot in the air.

“Sorry, Remus.” Sirius turns around to the other boy in the compartment. “Peter!” he says, lifting him out of his seat and giving him a hug too, thumping him on the back.

“Good to see you too, Sirius,” Peter says, trying to wedge himself out of the hug.

Sirius lets him go and walks back to the door of the compartment. He throws an arm out towards me and grins. “This is Lynn Rhodes. She’s a new seventh year.”

I smile awkwardly. “Hi.”

“Here, let me take that,” Sirius offers, already taking my luggage from my hands and placing it carefully on the luggage rack.

“Thanks,” I mumble, inspecting the two other boys in the compartment. The boy called Remus is extremely tall and skinny, though not the tallest I’ve seen. He has curly, light-brown hair and soft amber eyes. Every bit of exposed skin is covered in scars, and he has a rather angry-looking one across his left cheekbone. The boy called Peter is significantly shorter (shorter than me, even) and wider, and he has watery light-blue eyes. The pair of them look friendly enough.

Remus gives me a shy smile. “I’m Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Peter Pettigrew,” Peter squeaks.

I smile limply. “I’m Lynn Rhodes, like Sirius said. It’s nice to meet you two as well. Are you also Gryffindor seventh years?”

Remus nods his head. “Yeah. James is the last one of us, not sure where he is, though.”

“Aw, I was hoping you’d know. He’s probably off chasing Evans somewhere, though,” Sirius says, looking out the window.

“Who’s Evans?” I ask.

Sirius laughs. “Lily Evans, seventh year Gryffindor. She’s this girl James has fancied ever since he first laid eyes on her. He’s been trying to get her to go out with him for years, but she keeps saying no.”

“I admire his determination,” Remus chuckles, “but I wonder when he’s going to figure out that she really isn’t interested.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Sirius says, “I think she’s starting to come around. I caught her looking at him a couple of times end of last year.”

“Yes, because obviously if you _look_ at someone you _must_ fancy them,” Remus deadpans.

“I think James is just wasting his time,” Peter chimes in.

“Oh! There she goes! She looks really mad at something. Hope it wasn’t James,” Sirius laughs, pointing to a red-headed girl storming away from the train.

“There he is!” Peter squeals, pointing out the window to a frowning James, walking onto the train.

Sirius shakes his head. “She’s got to come around eventually. Anyway, Lynn — come on, sit down. Don’t expect I’ll let you stand in the doorway the entire ride — it’s pretty long.” He waves a hand towards an empty seat by the window, and I sit down as James enters the compartment, leaning against the doorframe, surprisingly still grinning.

“Why don’t you go to Ilvermorny anymore?” Sirius asks, leaning forward in his seat, letting his long black hair fall down in front of his face.

I chuckle and give a sigh. “My stupid parents. They thought it’d be a great idea to move a couple thousand miles to Britain. I mean, we were all happy back in the US, but for some reason they decided to move here. I bet they actually told me at some point why we did it, but I was too busy yelling at them for making me leave all my friends from home.”

“You’ll have no trouble fitting in here,” James says, an arrogant smile plastered across his face. “Just stay away from the Slytherins and you won’t find any trouble.”

“The Slytherins? Isn’t that a House?”

“Yeah — it’s the rival House to Gryffindor. Nearly all of them hate us. The two founders butted heads on whether or not Muggleborns ought to be taught at Hogwarts or not. Slytherin was against it, Gryffindor was for.”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. “Muggleborns?”

“Yeah. You know, witches and wizards whose parents were Muggles.”

“What are Muggles?”

Three of the boys look confusedly between themselves — all but Remus. “They’re people who possess no magical abilities and don’t come from magical descent. I think they’re called No-Majs in the States, correct?”

Realization dawns on my face. “Oh! Yeah, we do. You guys really call them _Muggles_?”

“You all in the States really call them _No-Majs_?” Sirius asks incredulously.

“Sounds a hell of a lot better than _Muggles_! Come on, I mean — No. Maj. No. Magic. No-Maj. No magic. But _Muggle_? How the hell did someone come up with that?!” I exclaim.

“What are you talking about? No-Maj _obviously_ sounds more ridiculous! I mean, come on! At least Muggle is reasonable,” James says.

“I don’t care that I live and go to school here now, there is no way I’m going to start saying ‘Muggle.’ I’m sticking with No-Maj.”

Sirius opens his mouth to speak, but at that moment, the train gives a small lurch and starts rolling down the tracks.

“Right, well, Remus — we’ve got to go,” James sighs, looking at a watch on his wrist.

Remus raises his palm to his forehead and stands up. “Merlin, I nearly forgot. Well, I’ll see you all later. We should probably be back sometime in the afternoon. And — it was nice to meet you, Lynn,” he says with a wave.

I give him a small smile and a matching wave as he exits the compartment with James. I turn to Sirius. “Where are they going?”

He scrunches up his nose and crosses his arms. “The prefects’ compartment. Remus is a prefect and James is Head Boy. Less of a blessing and more of a betrayal.”

I snort. “How is being a prefect or Head Boy a betrayal?”

“Because we’ve all been rule breakers for as long as we’ve known each other, so Sirius thinks that them being students of power will stop them goofing around with us,” Peter says.

“No! That’s not—” Sirius sputters, his face turning slightly red. “There’s a different reason!”

Peter grins. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

Sirius’ face flushes even more as he burrows himself into the corner of the compartment. “It’s… it’s… I… oh, shut up, Peter,” he grumbles.

“I think it’s amazing that James is Head Boy,” Peter says.

Sirius frowns. “Yeah, well, there hasn’t ever been anything James has done that you haven’t considered ‘amazing’.”

Peter now crosses his arms. “That’s not true!” he says, sounding highly offended.

“Oh really?” Sirius smirks. “Okay then. Name _one thing_ that James has done that you haven’t found amazing.”

Peter purses his lips and starts looking around the compartment, straining his mind to find something. I would be finding the exchange highly amusing if there weren’t such an awkward atmosphere. “Aha!” he shouts, his eyes lighting up. “It isn’t amazing how he keeps chasing after Lily Evans when she clearly doesn’t want to be with him! There! I found something!”

Sirius removes himself from the corner and uncrosses his arms, letting out a bark-like laugh. “Yeah, but think about how much time it took you to come up with that one thing.” He smiles and shakes his head, turning around to face me. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Lynn.“


End file.
